


i. Reciprocity

by confettiinmyhair



Series: Lessons [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (it's not really dubcon they're just both trashbags), (kinda), Descriptions Of Bodily Violence Without Followthrough, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Under-negotiated Kink, bootlicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confettiinmyhair/pseuds/confettiinmyhair
Summary: Having does not mean keeping. Titles are nothing without follow-through.





	i. Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> Blatant self-indulgence doubling as a gift to the lovely exorin \- she always encourages me in the worst ways.

Whatever this was that had been unfurling between them over the past weeks - whatever this barely-contained baring of teeth was that they’d been indulging away from prying eyes, even as they had built some kind of tentative public truce, there was only so much that Hux was willing to endure.

He had endured Snoke’s gibes (that he was a barely-leashed attack dog, grasping and clawing, only good for a scrap).  
It was laughable, of course - his life was a careful cultivation of shrewd tactic upon shrewd tactic, biding his time, slipping further and further up that line of power as though it were the most natural thing in the world.  
To have Ren - Ren, of all people - reinforcing Snoke’s accusation here, now -

The rage clutched at him, and his hand was clasped in Ren’s hair, yanking backward and away with a single, violent tug.  
Even with the higher collar of his new cowl, the motion exposed a wide swath of pale neck to the harsh, artificial light of the converted room.

He pulled his gaze up to Ren’s eyes, holding him there. The moment felt interminable - Hux coiled too tightly to consider that this might have been a mistake, Ren seemingly blindsided by the outburst, regarding Hux with what might have been shock.

“Do it,” Hux snarled as he felt the warning static-press of Ren’s Force grip at his own throat. “Do it and see how quickly this fleet crumbles, you fucking infant.”

The pressure did not relent, but neither did Ren try to pull from his grasp.

“How long will they heel to an empty memory of Snoke’s _bogeyman_?” Hux practically spat, fingers tightening against Ren’s scalp, drawing him back a little further, a little further - Ren dropped to his knees with a sickening thud, finally, spine bowed back, before Hux properly realized that was what he’d wanted.

He leaned down, keeping his eyes on Ren’s, unsure of what flinching reaction he was searching for.  
There was the thought - a fleeting fancy - about pressing in, sinking his teeth against that bare neck, uncaringly bruising Ren the way he might have before all of _this_.

(A fancy: he felt the twitch in his cock at the idea of the Supreme Leader adorned with his marks, the outline of his teeth riding the edges of that finely detailed collar as Ren went about the rest of his day.)

He saw the heavy bob of Ren’s throat, the little flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw - wondered if Ren had skimmed the thought from his mind.

He didn’t care - he wasn’t about to give Ren the actual satisfaction.

“You require obedience? _Grand Marshal_?”

That whisper was almost too soft, a sweet little trick at odds with the indignant spark in Ren’s gaze; Hux had to bite back the urge to simply slam Ren’s face against the floor.

(Another fancy, another twitch: watching blood trickle from Ren’s broken nose, licking it from those plush lips as he dug his thumb into the split cartilage-)

Instead he used that grip again, pulling forward and pressing down, a slow deliberate shove until Ren’s face was pressed to the top of his boot.

(Another fancy - shoving the tread of that boot against Ren’s throat, not quite crushing down-)

“No. _Humility_ ,” Hux whispered back.

He could see only the bare edge of Ren’s gaze now, waited for that still-teasing invisible chokehold to squeeze in -

Going completely still as Ren turned in his grip, mouth parting almost delicately as he dragged those lips against the dark leather.

Whatever he’d been hoping for, this was not it, but now that it was here -

“Is that all?” Hux chided. The phantom pressure on his throat tightened just for a moment, just for a thrilling little instant -

Ren braced himself up on his palms, the spark in his gaze all but glowing with anger as he dipped back down, running the flat of his tongue from the seam of the toe to the laces - and it was not lost on Hux the way Ren’s knees spread as he moved, as though he -

_Wanted this._

His thought must have projected (must it have?); the rumbling moan Ren let out as he licked another damp stripe up the side, nearly to the heel, was almost too much to be a coincidence.

(Brought another twitch, which Hux ignored with gritted teeth. This was not some prelude to the two of them rutting against each other. Not today. This was -)

His thought train fell to pieces as Ren pulled back, gaze sweeping up once again as he opened his spit-soaked lips around the toe, the wet noise of his tongue sliding against the front edge of the tread unmistakable.

(Another twitch: he could just as easily hold Ren there, tongue pressed to the rubber… could hold him there and come in great, heavy gouts over his cheeks-)

Another thought that he must have projected; there was a flutter in Ren’s eyelids, the slightest flex in those spread legs -

Enough.  
He let go, let Ren’s hair slide from his grasp, pulled his boot from Ren’s mouth, drew himself up to standing again.

Ren remained, hair curtained forward as he held himself in place, panting, as though expecting ( _wanting_ ) something more.  
When Hux made no move, issued no instruction, he pushed himself carefully up to kneeling, running a hand over his hair as he caught his breath.  
He was back on his feet before so much as looking Hux in the eye again.

It was lightning-quick, Ren’s fingers wrapping around his chin, fingernails gouging into his jaw on both sides.

“Humility?”

And Ren’s mouth was on his, sticky with drying saliva, demanding, forcing - Hux could not stop the way he gagged at the taste of it as Ren’s tongue dragged against his own, bootblack and rubber and _whatever_ had clung to the sole, sharp and revolting.  


(Another twitch from his traitorous body. Fleeting thought that he wanted whatever came next, and he gagged all over again.)

It took a moment for him to collect himself as Ren pulled back, gaze fixed to Hux’s mouth, as though ( _more?_ ) there were some secret to be gleaned from the parting of his lips.

“Hypocrite,” Ren whispered, ragged.

He dropped Hux’s chin then, practically shoving his face away. Ren drew himself up to his full height, delicate golden embroidery catching in the light as he adjusted the collar, setting his shoulders as he turned on his own heel.

Hux watched, watched the hem of his cloak swish out behind him, swallowed back the urge to drag Ren back by that loose fabric, clamp his teeth to the back of Ren's neck after all -

He did not (did _not_ ) sigh at the last answering press of Ren's unseen grasp at his own throat. 

**Author's Note:**

> honestly I love feedback. no pressure tho.


End file.
